Roots & Branches
by haunt-the-stars
Summary: Dick and Wally have a conversation about fatherhood and dadhood, and no, they're not the same thing.


**A/N: Happy (late?) father's day! If you don't have a dad in your life, or don't have a good dad in your life, I hope you have someone to teach, guide, support, and love you.**

 **Trigger warning for slight mentions of child abuse**

 **disclaimer: i own nothingnothingnothing aight** "Hey Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"You think you'll ever have kids?"

Dick tilts his head from side to side, thinking. "Not sure. You?"

Wally blatantly ignores his question, pulling one knee to his chest. "I mean, when you picture your life in fifteen, twenty years. Is there a wife and kids? Or, y'know, husband and kids. Just. Family?"

"I really don't picture my life in twenty years, Walls," Dick admits. "I guess I just...nothing's guaranteed, y'know? I'd like to get to eighteen before I think about thirty."

"Dude." Wally's face droops in that puppy-like way of his. "C'mon. Don't say stuff like that."

"Kinda hard to ignore the possibility when it's been in my face." His response is a bit too snappy, and he sighs. "Sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"S'okay."

They both relax back against the tree for a few seconds.

"You never answered," Dick says. "About you."

"I want kids," Wally says immediately. "A bunch of them."

Dick nods. It doesn't surprise him. Wally's just that kind of big-hearted. The thought of four or five little speedsters gives him a fond headache.

"I dunno if I will though. I..." Wally licks his lips and his voice gets a shade softer. "I don't know if I'd be a good father."

"You'd be a great father."

"I mean, I hope I would. But sometimes I wonder...if...if I'll...be any different." He's rapping his thumbs against his leg, looking at the space between their feet instead of at Dick.

Dick frowns and shifts his legs to be slung over one of Wally's, his feet landing between Wally's knees. "You're nothing like him."

His friend's mouth wobbles a little before he starts talking again. "It's...a thing, sometimes. There's been studies. There's a significant percentage of abusers that were vic-"

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"I just...doesn't it scare you? To think...to think of having your own?" If Dick looked a little closer, he swears he might see Wally's eyes well up, but he tactfully follows his gaze to their feet. "I love them just thinking about them. I don't want to hurt them."

"It does scare me." Dick rests his head on Wally's shoulder. "Because I could leave them behind. Any moment. Wouldn't even have to be doing something dangerous, I could be...seeing a movie. And then...then they'd be alone. And I don't want to do that to my kids." He takes a shaky breath, willing the thought away, then turns his attention back to Wally. "You'd never hurt someone, Walls. You're too nice. You're the nicest person I know. You'd be a really great dad."

"Thanks. I just...I worry. I want to give them better than I got. So much better."

Dick's practically in his lap by now, but he doesn't particularly care. It's getting colder anyway.

"That's what a good dad does," he says after a moment's quiet. "You do your best. You do better by them."

Wally nods. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mmhm." There are stars in the sky. Dick can never see stars in Gotham.

"Do you ever wish Bruce was your father?"

He looks up and waits as if the stars can articulate his answer. Wally is patient. "Yeah. Sometimes. Would make things...a little less complicated. But...he's still my dad. Just not my father." He bites his lip, a familiar discomfort panging in his chest. "I used to feel awful, whenever I thought that. Like I was...replacing my dad, y'know? Now...I don't know."

"He wouldn't be upset," Wally says with certainty. "He loved you."

Dick hums, sensing he's not done yet.

"When I was little I...had trouble adjusting, for a little while. And I would throw these tantrums because I couldn't understand what was happening to me and why I was hurting so much. So I got really mad at Barry one time and...and I told him that he wasn't my dad and I wished I never came to live with him." He swallows, and Dick wonders if he still feels guilty. "And then when I apologized later, he said he wasn't mad. I asked him why. He said that he loved me too much."

Now Dick does look up, and sees that Wally is smiling, tears in the corners of his eyes.

"He said when you have a son you love him too much to care if he thinks of you as his dad or not. Or whether he wants you as his dad or not. And I think...I think your dad would be okay with you having another dad too."

"I think you're right," Dick whispers. "Thanks."

He rests his head back on Wally's shoulder as something else comes to him. "Does Barry tell you that a lot? That he loves you?"

"Every day. Does...does Bruce not?"

"Never." Dick shakes his head. "But it makes him happy when I do. I think...y'know, he can't. Because of his parents. But he wants better for me."

"That's what a good dad does," Wally repeats. "That's what both of them do."

Dick smiles. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Would you trade it?"

His life, Dick mentally supplies. What he has for what he should have had. "No. Would you?"

"No. But I hope my kids have it different."

"Me too."

"Hey, um..." Wally wraps an arm around his shoulders, hints of a blush tinting his cheeks. "I know this is sort of a Catholic thing, so it may not...mean much to you, and we're still young, but...if...when I have kids, will you be their godfather?"

Dick ducks his head to hide how touched he is on instinct, then slowly lifts it again. Wally should see that it means something to him. "Yeah. Of course."

"Thank you."

Wally shifts to hug him and they hold each other for a minute, each keeping the other from falling apart for a little longer. Then they stand together, arms loosely around each other's waists as they walk back down the hill to their little campsite. Barry is carefully arranging plates of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows in even portions, telling a story. Bruce is sitting by the fire, smirking, and Dick swears he's enjoying himself after all.

Wally lets go of Dick to run up to Barry, throwing his arms around his neck and lifting his feet so he dangles off the ground. "You're a really good dad, Uncle Barry."

Barry startles, then grips Wally's wrists with his hands. "Thanks, kid. Uh...what do you want from me?" He's joking, voice light, but love and joy are barely concealed behind it. He obviously hears the honesty in Wally's.

"Nothing. Just wanted to tell you."

Barry grins.

Dick sits next to Bruce with his feet tucked close, leaning against him just a bit. Their eyes lock for a second, and Bruce brushes his hair back off his forehead.

He understands.


End file.
